


Kill Shot

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: A Thousand Ways [14]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Mob, Because this is them, But there will also be snark, Declarations Of Love, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, This is about 900 times angstier than I planned, poor steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-05-14 08:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14766344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: Steve's a mob assassin who just got his latest target - a former New Jersey detective named Daniel Williams.Unsurprisingly, that's when things get complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another AU I absolutely 100 percent should not have started.

Steve had never really had much of a choice about what he was going to do with his life. When you were raised by a single mother who just happened to be Dae Won’s top assassin, and by extension the only white woman in the entirety of the Chinese mob, it was a given that he’d end up following in her footsteps. He’d been a member of the “family” since before he could talk – the only question had been whether or not he’d prove useful enough to justify his continued existence.

Conveniently, he ended up being pretty good at killing. In some ways, he was even better than his mother – he had a sniper’s aim, and could hit a moving target at damn near impossible distances. He could case his targets quietly, stay off of security cameras, and disappear afterward as if he’d never been there. His mother’s kills were always up close and personal, which were better for sending “messages” but were much more likely to draw the attention of local law enforcement. Wo Fat, who had been running the show ever since his father’s death a few years before, always made sure they both had plenty of work.

If anyone had ever asked Steve whether he _liked_ being a mob assassin, he wouldn’t have known how to answer the question. How he felt had never made the slightest bit of difference in what actually happened, and eventually he’d learned to shut down his feelings completely when he was on the job. He had friends, he had a roof over his head, and he didn’t have to worry about where his next meal was coming from.

Every once in awhile, he thought he could hear someone screaming in the back of his head. It sounded suspiciously like him.

He never mentioned it to anyone. It wasn’t like it would make a difference.

000

“I have a new assignment for you.” Wo Fat slid the folder across the table, one Steve already knew he wouldn’t be allowed to take out of the office. The new boss kept physical copies of all his data to make sure hackers couldn’t get at it, and routinely burned everything that was no longer immediately relevant. Everything else, he kept in a briefcase he carried on him at all times. “Normally, I would give a project like this to your mother, but in this case discretion is more important than making a statement.”

Steve opened the folder, seeing what looked like the official employee file of an NYPD detective named Daniel Williams. Or “Danny,” to be more precise, if the notes and reports in the file could be believed. He’d transferred in from Jersey three years before, and since then had made a hell of a splash with the cases he’d built against local gangs.

The personal information was, unsurprisingly, a hell of a lot sparser. He had an ex-wife, Rachel Hollander, who’d re-married a man named Stan Edwards a few months before Danny had made the movie to New York. Despite that, Danny and Rachel’s daughter still had the last name Williams.

Clearly, Danny wasn’t the type of person who let things go.

He looked up, meeting Wo Fat’s eyes. “Killing a cop’s going to cause trouble, no matter how discreet I am,” he said flatly, the closest to arguing he was allowed to get. Normally, he was only asked to kill major players, either with them or in a rival crew. Sometimes, they were just bastards.

This was the first time he’d been asked to kill a cop. Even the thought made his stomach twist.

“That’s true.” Wo Fat leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “But in this case, making it clear that his death was a mob hit will only turn him into a martyr. My friends at the NYPD tell me he’s building a case against us, one convincing enough that the State’s Attorney has gotten involved.” His expression darkened. “It seems as though we have traitors in the family, Stephen. Detective Williams is claiming information he couldn’t possibly have gotten on his own.”

Steve’s shoulders tightened, his brain frantically trying to think of who it might be. Even as he did, he made sure to keep all of it off his face. “I would expect you to go after the traitors first.”

Wo Fat shook his head. “That will take time, and according to my friends Detective Williams is mere days away from wrapping up his case and sending his own little army to hunt us down. But he’s incredibly secretive, possibly because he suspects my influence among his co-workers. Only he has all the pieces of the case.” He smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Eliminate him, and it crumbles. Do it quietly, and the wreckage will slowly fade away rather than stirring up… inconvenient feelings among those who might be tempted to take up his cause.”

The knot in Steve’s stomach twisted just a little more. “And I’m the one who does the quiet killings.”

“Exactly.” Wo Fat smiled, the expression somehow even colder than his anger had been. “We’re practically brothers, growing up under your mother’s influence the way we did. There’s no one else I would trust with an assignment of such vital importance to the long-term health of the family.”

Steve’s only response to that was to stand and set the file back on Wo Fat’s desk, ready to leave the office at the first opportunity. “Did you need me for anything else?”

“You have two days. Call me the moment it’s done.” He dismissed Steve with a wave, speaking again only when he was almost out the door. “The police have never heard of you, you know. There’s no trace of you in any of their files, and it’s not because of my influence.”

Steve turned around, the calculation on Wo Fat’s face his only warning. “I know.”

Wo Fat raised his eyebrows. “It would be a shame if I got arrested and was forced to turn over my entire file on you. So many people you’ve killed for me, Stephen.” He smiled again. “And such a limited knowledge of the business as a whole. You wouldn’t even be valuable enough to bargain with them.”

Steve’s stomach went cold, less because of the threat than because Wo Fat must have seen some sign of his hesitation. If he couldn’t do a better job of keeping all that boxed in, it wouldn’t matter what the cops knew – he’d be a dead man anyway. “Message received, boss.”

Wo Fat nodded. “I thought it might be.”

Only then could Steve finally, mercifully, escape.


	2. Chapter 2

For Steve, a hit always started with surveillance. He followed his target for 24 hours, either blending into crowds or hiding in the shadows, to both learn their routine and scout out the surrounding territory. Then, the next day, he positioned himself in the right window or alleyway to take care of the problem as quickly and discreetly as possible. Sometimes, no one would find the body until days later.

With Dann— Detective Williams, it would be more of a challenge. Normal people didn't lurk in the kind of places his usual targets lurked, and even if he collapsed in the middle of a crowd the resulting blood would still draw too much attention. On top of that, Williams was actually pretty good at keeping out of obvious sight lines.

All that meant was that Steve would need to get closer. Though it wouldn't be ideal to drop him in the middle of the street, there were some places that wouldn't be noticed immediately – a park bench, a dumpster – that would take only a minimum amount of movement. He'd mastered the art of moving a body so it looked like he was getting a living drunk person home, and even though Williams was shorter than his usual target the same techniques would work.

At least, that was what he told himself, a mental running commentary he used to try and distract himself from actually listening to Dann— Williams.

To the neighbor coming into his building as he was leaving it: "I left some leftover baked ziti for you in the package dropoff. You hurry, you should be able to grab it before someone else does."

To the kid on the skateboard who stopped to tell him thank you for telling him about encyclopedias: "It's how we used to cheat in the old days. I figured it would be old enough your teacher wouldn't recognize it."

To the girl running the coffee cart: "It’s just fine that Connor isn't walking yet, no matter what your mother-in-law says. Kids develop at their own pace."

Everyone seemed to have a smile for him, at least until he got into the squad room. There, he was mostly ignored, and if the conversation around the coffee cart was to be believed Captain Jameson gave him unsolvable cold cases as busy work. Steve assumed it was a lie meant to protect the cases he was working, along with the fact that he didn't seem to have a partner. Danny maintained the fiction with a constantly frustrated air that could be interpreted any number of ways depending on who was seeing it.

When his mother called, interrupting a lunch run to the local deli, the frustration was very real. But there was just as much love in Danny's voice as he calmed his mother down, talked her through some problem with her sister, and dissuaded her from signing one of his sisters up for marriage counseling all in the space of 15 minutes. He sounded exhausted when he got off the phone. Steve was pretty tired just listening to him.

He tried hitting the shutdown sequence several times throughout the day, but no matter how hard he tried it never lasted long. Hell, he didn't even know when he'd given up and started letting himself call Danny by his first name.

Even if he'd been doing a better job at switching off his emotions, the call Danny received at 2 p.m. would have put an end to it. The way he hurried out of the squad room, Steve wondered for a second if it was something to do with one of the informants. He was right not to trust his co-workers – this Captain Jameson, at least, was clearly one of Wo Fat’s “friends” – but the informant had to be pretty stupid to be calling him at work. Danny headed into the stairwell for the conversation, which hardly anyone used but carried sound too well for anything said to be truly protected.

When he used his stolen maintenance uniform to slip upstairs and out into an upper portion of the same stairwell, however, he realized it hadn’t been work at all. There was too much warmth in Danny’s voice, as if he was trying to pour all his love through the phone to the person on the other side.

“…okay that it wasn’t all the way up to the top, Monkey. It’s really skinny up there, and they don’t want people falling off. You got pictures, right? No, it’s okay – how about you wait to send them to me until you get home, and then when you come and stay with me for the weekend you can tell me all about all of them.” Then he hesitated, and when he spoke again there was something sad underneath the warmth. “I know, Monkey. I miss you, too, but I’m doing boring, yucky work and you don’t want to have to worry about that. You have fun with Mommy and Step-Stan now, and when we get back you and me will have our own fun.”

Listening to it, Steve could all too easily picture both the smile on Danny's face and the ache of missing his daughter in his eyes. He thought about how heartbroken Grace would be when she found out she'd never be able to talk to her dad again. How lost Danny's mother would be. The dozens of holes in the world, big and small, that would be left behind because Danny Williams wasn't there anymore.

It was almost 10 by the time Danny made it back to his apartment, forced to drive past it a few blocks in order to find an available parking space. Steve, who'd identified the spot a few minutes before Danny had, tucked himself into an alleyway less than a dozen feet away to watch. His gray track pants and dark green hoodie blended into the shadows far better than black would have, the sporadically maintained streetlights only helping his cover.

When Danny finally parked, he didn’t get out of his car. Instead, he leaned forward until his forehead was resting against the steering wheel, shoulders slumping, and Steve didn’t need better light to recognize a man trying to keep himself from drowning. If Steve had been at the window of one of the nearby apartments, he could have taken him out easily.

If he wanted to stay alive, he should walk over there and put a silenced bullet through the driver's side window and into the back of Danny’s head. If he was a different person, and lived in a different world, Steve would go over there and quietly knock on the same window. He'd apologize for bothering Danny, then ask if he was okay. Find some other excuse to start a conversation.

Here, now, Steve knew he couldn't do either thing. He couldn't even turn around right now and get on a plane, the only option he had left that would extend his life for very long. It would give him more time before his mother found him, but it would also leave her in the city with a good man who was trying to make the world a slightly better place. A man who desperately needed someone to be on his side.

Making this choice, deciding this one thing entirely for himself, would kill him. But with Danny's life on the other side of the equation, it seemed like a fair trade.

Steve waited until Danny lifted his head, finally getting out of the car. Then, silently, he melted back into the shadows.

He had someplace he needed to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve waited on a nearby roof until the lights went off in Danny’s apartment, then an extra hour so that Danny would be all the way asleep. He’d done a few hits inside apartment buildings or hotels, and even though he wanted Danny alive it would still be easier to control the environment after he was unconscious.

Then it was a quick jump to the correct roof, where he went in through the maintenance door. He could have taken the side of the building, if he’d had to – he knew from personal experience the fire escapes meant you didn’t even have to do much freeclimbing – but a guy shimmying up the side of a building in the middle of the night tended to be memorable. Someone walking down a hallway wasn’t, especially if they weren’t too obvious about picking locks.

The apartment was a studio, as small and run-down as the rest of the building. The scattered detritus of a little girl the only real sign of permanence, a stack of still-full boxes along one wall wrangled into double duty as makeshift tables. The bed was in one corner, currently occupied by the sleeping member of law enforcement, and next to the bed was a short, beat-up filing cabinet rather that one of the oh-so-convenient box tables.

Carefully, silently, Steve moved over and pulled open the top drawer of the cabinet. There was Danny’s gun, which he needed to get out of the way if he wanted to have an actual discussion with the man. His own gun was on the opposite side of the room, left there so it would be safely out of range of both his reflexes and Danny's potential ability to grab things. He'd set Danny's gun next to his, and then figure out how to—

Sudden movement from the bed cut off the rest of the thought. Steve hurriedly slid the gun across the scarred wood floor, getting out of range before Danny could dive for it. He shifted and went for Steve instead, but Steve rolled them both and tried to pin him to the ground. " _Listen_ , I just want to—"

He wasn't sure how he anticipated the crotch shot, but shifting out of the way gave Danny the leverage he needed to flip them so he was on top. He pulled back enough to run a rough, pressing hand over both Steve's hips and stomach, then the small of his back. Steve's dick pointed out that being straddled and semi-fondled by a hot guy wearing only boxer shorts, particularly _this_ hot guy, was the most interesting thing that had happened to them in awhile. If he could just—

Steve ruthlessly crushed the thought, and the corresponding physical reaction, as Danny glared down at him in confusion. "Why the hell aren't you armed?" he asked, sounding almost more exasperated than angry. "I know you were probably planning on killing me with my own gun, but it's insulting as hell that you didn't bring backup."

"I'm not armed because I didn't plan on killing you at _all_ ," Steve shot back, deciding that conversation was more important than trying to regain the control position. "I'm just here to talk."

Danny didn't bother hiding his skepticism. "Yeah, because breaking into someone's home is the _perfect_ way to start a nice, friendly conversation with them."

Steve took a deep breath. Now or never. "It is when Wo Fat's ordered you to kill them, and you want to find a way to avoid doing that."

Danny went still, expression sharpening, and Steve braced himself for any one of a range of possible reactions. Anger was the most likely, possibly enough to re-start the violence, but disbelief was also a reasonable option. He had to know that the hit was a real option, given the case, but he had no reason to believe this wasn’t part of some larger plan of Steve’s.

Instead of any of that, however, Danny sat back on his heels. “You’re not the Butcher.”

His voice was flat, the words a statement rather than a question, but Steve couldn’t stop his flinch. “Of _course_ I’m not the Butcher.” There was too much emotion in his voice, horror at the mere thought and furious denial Danny had no reason to believe, all of it too old and too deep for him to control. His mother had tried to teach him her specific tricks for the job, the ones that had earned her the nickname decades before Wo Fat had come into power, and had been bitterly disappointed when he hadn’t incorporated them into his own work.

He had nightmares, sometimes, that he had. That he took the name on for himself after she retired, and smiled the same way she did every time he heard it.

Above him, Danny watched every shift of his face like it held the secrets of the universe. After a second, his eyebrows lifted. “You’re the Ghost.”

Once again, it wasn’t a question. This time, though, Steve had no idea what he meant. “What?”

Danny stood abruptly, turning his back to Steve as he went for an open box on top of one of the stacks. “Everyone who’s paid attention to crime in this city for five minutes knows that the Butcher is Wo Fat’s prime assassin, just like he or she was for Dae Won back when he was running the crew. Given the Butcher’s belief that blood spatter is the best way to prove a point, it would be hard not to.”

He grabbed a t-shirt out of the box, pulling it on as he turned back around to face Steve. “What no one but me seems to have picked up on, however, is that there’s also a second assassin. Hell of a lot quieter than the Butcher, prefers quick, clean kills that have never once included collateral damage. As far as I’ve been able to find, the guy’s only ever gone after people from rival crews and the occasional straight-up bastard. No cops. No one who could be called a decent member of society by any stretch of the imagination.” He focused on Steve again. “Want to tell me I’m wrong?”

Slowly, Steve sat up, feeling oddly exposed. “Have you told anyone?”

“Who’s to tell? As far as anyone else knows, I’m babysitting cold cases.” He sighed, looking exhausted for the first time since he’d been abruptly awakened. “And surrounded by potentially dirty cops. A list that I now definitely knows includes Captain Jameson, because she’s the only person who could have given Wo Fat my fucking name.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Any chance I can wait until tomorrow morning to call Denning, or is shit going to come down on us immediately?”

“I had 48 hours to kill you. The clock started this morning.” He watched as Danny nodded, grabbing a phone out of the same filing cabinet drawer to send a brief text to someone before tossing it back inside. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d let me fake your death and get you out of the country before time runs out, would you?”

Danny actually looked amused. “That’s sweet, but not a chance.” He sat back down on the bed. “I have to stay alive long enough to see my daughter again, but that also means I have to still be in the country. On top of that, the only way my informants get into Witsec like I promised is if the case goes through. Without me, it won’t.”

Steve didn’t ask who his informants were. Now that he’d seen the kind of person Danny was, the kind of cop, he already knew which of Wo Fat’s people had decided to trust him with their lives.

Unfortunately, that meant there were even _more_ people he needed to keep alive.

He let out a breath. “So,” he said finally. “What do we do now?”

Danny shot him a wry look. “What are the chances you’ll suddenly change your mind and murder me in my sleep?”

Steve’s brow lowered. “You can’t let me stay here.”

“What’s your other option? Sleeping on the roof like some sort of weird murder ninja?” He headed over to one of the other boxes, digging out a blanket and pillow before tossing them at Steve. “The couch folds out. If you’re a good boy and let me sleep a few more hours without any murder or general violence, I might even be persuaded to make pancakes before everything goes to shit.”

Steve caught the bedding automatically, still staring at Danny like he’d lost his mind. “You do remember that I was sent here to _kill_ you, right?”

“Yes. I also remember that you’re the guy who swooped in and offered to save me from the evil crime lord by faking my death.” He slipped back into bed. “I feel that’s the more relevant fact in this situation.”

“But I—“

“Sleep now, Ghost. Talking later.” Danny paused. “No, I refuse to call you Ghost. That’s not something real, actual adults call each other. I need a name.”

Steve felt weirdly breathless. “Steve.”

“I like it. Almost absurdly normal-sounding, given the circumstances.” Another pause, his voice already fogging with sleep. “Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve stayed where he was, staring at a sleeping Danny, for what felt like a really long time.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve woke up to the smell of cooking pancakes and warm chocolate, a clearly handmade quilt wrapped around him, and for a second he was convinced he was still dreaming. Then memory filtered back, offering up a detailed list of everything that had happened in the past two days and all the shit that was still coming, and suddenly he was far more awake than he wanted to be.

Carefully, he got out of bed, turning it back into a couch before folding up the blanket and setting it on top with the pillow. His eyes were on Danny the entire time, standing in the kitchenette area cooking pancakes for a man who’d been hired to kill him. Chocolate chip pancakes, from the smell of it.

In his entire life, Steve didn’t think he’d ever had chocolate chip pancakes.

Finally, Danny transferred the pancakes to plates and carried them over to a small table. “Sorry if chocolate’s not your thing, but it’s a premade mix. Since it’s Grace’s favorite, it’s the only kind I buy.” When Steve didn’t move – he was _apologizing_ for the _pancakes_ – Danny inclined his head toward the table. “Come on. You already decided to change your life for an asshole cop. Eating breakfast with him isn’t gonna make things any _more_ weird.”

 As they ate, Danny filled him in on the information he’d managed to gather while Steve had been uncharacteristically sleeping in. “I got a text back from Denning, and if I’m reading the code right the raid’s getting bumped up to tonight. He’s also got a plan for Jameson, though in that case the less I know the better.”

“There’s more than just her,” Steve warned, his gaze flicking up to Danny before returning his attention to the pancakes. “Wo Fat always talked about his ‘friends’ with the NYPD in the plural.”

Danny sighed. “Yeah, we figured.” He shook his head, taking a bite of the pancakes. “I’m guessing he’ll tap Jameson’s phone, and hopefully he’ll sweep the other ones up in the process. Whatever happens, I’ll be too busy figuring out how to extract my informants. Witsec will be ready for them this afternoon, but I’ve got to get them out and all together for the pickup. Which is why I called in sick to work, because this isn’t exactly the sort of thing I can fit into my lunch break.”

Steve looked up at Danny again, watching his face. “You keep saying ‘I.’”

Danny hesitated, looking genuinely apologetic. “Listen. I am truly grateful you decided to swoop in like some ridiculously attractive knight—”

Steve’s entire being snapped to attention. “You think I’m attractive?”

Danny looked embarrassed for a second, like he hadn’t meant to say that bit out loud, then cleared his throat. “Let’s focus on the relevant part of what I was saying, okay? If it was only my life on the line, I would be happy trusting my gut instinct and letting you back me up through the disaster about to drop down on both of us. But these people trusted me with their lives, and since they're all active members of Wo Fat's crime syndicate they technically fall within the window of people you’ve previously been willing to kill. I can’t—”  

Steve set down his fork. “Chin Ho Kelly, Kono Kalakaua, and Adam Noshimuri.”

Danny froze, his expression turning more dangerous than Steve had ever seen it. “You’re telling me Wo Fat knows _their_ names?” The threat in his voice was enough to make at least a few of the criminals Steve had worked with quake in their shoes. “And you’re just bringing this up to me _now_?”

Steve sighed, the confirmation like a weight in his gut. “Wo Fat doesn’t know. If he did, they’d be dead already.” He closed his eyes. It was so _stupid_ to be hurt that they didn’t tell him. “They might work for him, but he doesn’t know any of them well enough.”

The feeling of danger from across the table abruptly vanished. “But you do,” Danny said quietly.

Steve opened his eyes, meeting an expression far more sympathetic than he deserved. “The only three people I’ve ever considered friends.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth, pushing the rest of the pancakes away. “It was Chin’s idea, I’m sure. His fiancee Malia was killed during a turf war Wo Fat instigated a couple of years ago, and everyone thinks he’s so loyal because publically he only ever blamed the other family. The thing is, he’s not an idiot – he’s one of Wo Fat’s top lieutenants, and even a breath of disloyalty would be mercilessly crushed. He knew he couldn’t trust anybody with how he really felt.”

Danny was still watching him like he could see inside his head. “You knew, though.”

Steve looked back down at the table for a moment, remembering. “He was _so_ angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry in my _life_.” He met Danny’s eyes again. “But he knew that, whatever he did, he was only going to get one chance at it. Which is why he didn’t do anything about it until he met the one cop in this city he was absolutely certain he could trust.”

“And dumb enough to take Wo Fat on in the first place, don’t forget that.” Despite the wryness, his voice was still gentle. “What about the other two?”

He sighed again. “There are only two people Chin’s really at all close to, and with my mother being who she is I’m the last person you’d want to trust with something like this.” He couldn’t blame them for it, really. It had been the smart decision.

Danny’s brow furrowed. “Wait – what does your mother have to do with this?”

Steve winced, belatedly wishing he hadn’t said that part out loud. “She’s the Butcher.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “I don’t even like therapists, and I want to get you into so much therapy right now.”

Weirdly touched, Steve was the one who had to clear his throat this time. “Back to Chin. Kono’s his cousin, but he loves her like a little sister. There’s no way he wouldn’t have told her, even if she wasn’t in on it, but there’s also no way she’d let him do something like this alone. She’s one of Wo Fat’s enforcers, so even if she doesn’t access to the breadth of information Chin does she can provide first-hand testimony of a lot of his on-the-ground interests. Adam is her fiancé, and one of Wo Fat’s accountants. He might be able to give you more than even Chin can, and there’s no way he’d let Kono do this without him.”

Danny’s expression had turned searching. “I noticed you included a well-thought out description of everyone’s potential value as witnesses. You happen to put one of those together for yourself?”

Steve shook his head. “There isn’t one.” When Danny looked like he was about to argue, Steve’s chest tightened with an unexpected rush of emotion. It had been a long time since someone had tried to fight for him. “Thank you for trying, seriously, but I’ve already had this discussion with myself plenty of times. The only thing I know about the business are the people Wo Fat hired me to kill. Basically, they’re all other criminals, which most juries aren’t going to get too excited about. Half the time, I was careful enough that no one can even prove they were hits.”  

Danny still looked ready to prove him wrong. “So you’re not as great a sell as some of the others. That doesn’t mean—”

“Danny.” Without realizing what he was doing, he reached across the table and covered Danny’s hand with his. “It’s okay. Don’t screw up your case trying to make room for me. I’ll figure something out.”

Danny swore softly. “Why don’t I find that comforting?”

Steve, once he realized where his hand was, made himself let go. Still, he surprised himself by smiling a little as he went back to his pancakes. He was probably still going to be dead by the time all of this was over, but there were worse ways he could go. “I’m a professional assassin. You’re not supposed to find anything I say comforting.”

Danny just looked at him for a moment. “You know, when this is all over and you’re figuring out what you want to do with the rest of your life, comedy clubs should definitely not be on that list,” he said finally, voice warm enough that Steve felt it deep in his chest. “I say this for the good of everyone.”

For just a moment, Steve’s smile widened. “If you’re mean, I won’t tell you that I know where Kono will be in about an hour.”

Danny sighed dramatically. “Has anyone ever told you you’re completely deranged? Because I feel like this is something someone should have brought up.” He pushed the pancakes back in Steve’s direction. “Now eat. Even a murder ninja needs a healthy breakfast.”


	5. Chapter 5

Steve didn't bother asking Danny to borrow some clothes -- even if something did fit, it would be tight or short enough to draw more attention than it avoided. That left the jogging getup he'd worn for last night's surveillance, transformed into a gym outfit thanks to a duffel bag of Danny's filled with random towels.

Danny, decked out similarly, followed next to Steve with another gym bag over his shoulder. He looked almost dangerous like this, the tightly coiled strength that had surprised Steve the night before out in full display, and Steve had the sudden, knife- sharp vision of Danny in a boxing ring.

When Danny looked down at himself, however, there was nothing but wry amusement on his face. "You know, you're really ruining my mental image of assassins skulking through the night dressed all in black."

Steve felt something inside him warm and soften at the gentle teasing. "If you saw someone lurking in the shadows wearing an all-black outfit and covering his face, what would you do?"

Danny's lips quirked. "Follow the asshole and see if I need to arrest him for something."

Steve's own lips curved. "Exactly. But someone out for a jog, who just happens to be leaning against a wall? Most people don't even really register it."

Danny's eyes flicked up and down his body in a clearly evaluating look, and Steve repressed a shiver of interest as Danny cleared his throat and focused on the street ahead of them again. "Still, you could get away with black jogging gear. Looks good with a Nike logo on it, and still perfect for slinking through the shadows."

Some part of Steve felt comfortable enough that he started answering before his brain had the chance to stop him. "Actually, dark green, brown and gray all blend into the shadows better than black does. The rods in the human eye do most of the work of seeing at night, the cones are still partially active. Since the cones perceive color, there's still a trace of it as long as there's enough light to see the environment in the---"

Finally, belatedly, Steve's brain forcibly reminded him that other people were _not_ interested in the scientific explanation behind things and he needed to shut his mouth now. Chin, Kono and Adam were always patient when he couldn't help himself, but Danny didn't need to be bothered with it.

When he risked glancing over, though, Danny was grinning at him. "Nerd," he said warmly, and Steve let himself imagine there was affection in the other man's voice. Then, suddenly, Danny sobered. "Boarding school?"

Steve cleared his throat, trying not to think of all the years his mother had him tucked away under a fake name. He'd learned several different languages by the time he was done, and no matter how lonely it was he'd always preferred it to the times his mother had called him home. "Yeah." When Danny's expression darkened, he hesitated. "I know you'd never do that to your daughter, but there are worse things."

Danny shot him a complicated look that Steve couldn't read, then sighed. "I know." He shifted the bag higher on his shoulders. "Still, if we both survive this, I might just have Grace call you when she needs help with her science homework."

Steve kept any reaction off his face, knowing Danny couldn't be serious. "I'm also pretty good at history."

Danny's lips curved upward in a way Steve could feel all the way down to his bones. "I'll keep that in mind."

000

Kono was... unusual among Wo Fat's enforcers, so she tended to be saved for jobs that required a her unique touch. She was innocuous enough at first glance to work in higher-end areas where the usual sort of thug would draw too much attention, but also intimidating enough that not even the most arrogant, entitled "client" of Wo Fat's could dismiss her.

Steve found the right art gallery, and he and Danny stood in front of the cafe next door pretending they were extremely interested in the range of gluten-free sandwich options posted on the menu outside. If he'd gotten the timing wrong....

After a moment, though, he heard a door slam open in the alleyway between the two storefronts. "--a little late, that's all!" A panicked male voice, sounding like he was backing away from the direction of the gallery. "It won't take longer than a few more days, I swear, and then I can---"

Whatever else he'd been about to say was cut off when all the air left him, right around the same time as the sound of a body hitting the wall. "This isn't some Wall Street deal, Esten." Kono's voice was low and sharp, like a knife against an unprotected throat. "Wo Fat supplies you with the drugs you sell your clients along with your shitty paintings, and since you can barely _give_ the paintings away we both know you overcharge them double on the drugs. And, given how much of Wo Fat's product you move, they're so rich and stupid they still _buy_ it. Which brings us to the third part of our little economic cycle, when you _give Wo Fat the money you owe him_."

"I will, I will! I just need to---"

That cut off with what sounded like a punch. " _Now._ "

He made a pained sound. "Take this." He sounded panicked, and there were vague scrabbling sounds. "It's real, I swear it. I'll have the rest for you tomorrow."

There was a moment of silence from Kono, probably while she was evaluating the genuineness of the watch. "Fine. But I'll need an extra 20 percent."

"But I---"

"It's Wo Fat's decision, not mine. Want to take it up with him?"

The man made a terrifed noise, and a moment later the door slammed. Leaving Danny to continue the pretense of staring at the menu, Steve moved to intercept her before she left. "I need to talk to you."

Kono's eyes widened when they met his, the closest she ever got to looking alarmed, and for a second Steve felt like the worst person in the world -- they really _hadn't_ felt like they could trust him with this.

Instead of tensing or backing away, though, she reached for him. "I need to talk to you, too." She glanced out into the street before grabbing his arm, pulling him deeper into the alleyway. " _Immediately_."

When she didn't slow down, he realized she was planning on pulling him through the alleyway and out the other side. He dug his heels in, not wanting to be seperated from Danny. "I can't stay. I'm just here to tell---"

"What I have to tell you is _much_ more important," she said firmly, still trying to move him. "Chin said you were out on a job, but you need to---"

He covered her hand with his free one, finally realizing what she was trying to do. "I already know," he said quietly.

She froze, all the color draining from her face. "Does Wo Fat know? Is he the one who told---"

"No." Danny's voice, suddenly appearing from over Steve's shoulder, cut her off. He moved to stand by Steve, like they were a team. "I'm the only person whose name he knows, and if we want to keep it that way we need to get you out of here yesterday. We're pulling the trigger the second you can get the other two."

Kono looked back and forth between them, sudden understanding blossoming on her face, then threw her arms around Steve. "We _wanted_ to tell you," she whispered, giving him a fierce hug. He hugged her back automatically, still too stunned by the response to think properly. "We didn't think we could talk Witsec into taking you, but we have an exit---"

She pulled away suddenly, looking over at Danny as if just remembering he was there, but Danny just seemed amused. "An exit strategy planned for him?" he finished. "But you couldn't tell him until the very last minute, because otherwise he'd want to help. And you really didn't want him coming to one particular cop's attention, because it might annoy the aforementioned cop when he disappeared suddenly instead of being in the arrest report?"

Kono watched Danny's face for a few seconds, then burst into a brilliant grin. "Chin said you were a better man than your current employers deserved. I'll have to tell him he was right." Then she stretched upward to press a quick kiss against Steve's cheek. "And you're a better friend than we deserve."

She was gone before Steve could begin to formulate a response, leaving his mouth hanging open. He finally managed to close it, turning to Danny. "We didn't---"

"We have a signal," Danny explained, patting his shoulder sympathetically. "Which means you'll have a little time to process."

Steve scrubbed his hands across his face, still reeling. It wasn't that they hadn't trusted him. They'd been trying to _protect_ him. "How did you know that's what they were thinking?"

Danny let out a breath. "Because it's what I would have done in their place." Before Steve could get an explanation for _that_ , Danny headed back toward the street. "Come on. I've got a few calls to make before all this goes down."


	6. Chapter 6

Danny made his calls as they headed to Steve's nearest weapons cache, each one its own small storm of carefully marshaled words. Nothing that let bystanders know what they were really about – Danny had "three friends" coming into town, and he was trying to help them find "hotel rooms" at the last minute – but enough to make it clear that getting Kono and everyone into Witsec early wouldn't be easy. Someone named Abby was clearly on their side, but there were at least two other people who got a mixture of fast taking and veiled threats that would have made more than a few mobsters he'd known fall in line.

He seemed satisfied by the time he'd finished, though, and Steve felt an emotion that seemed suspiciously close to hope as he popped the hatch of what looked like a perfectly normal AC unit outside a building. "Everything okay?" he asked, loading up the duffel with guns and dumping the towels back into the container. Danny was wearing his backup sidearm, but that was no reason not to grab enough for both of them.

"If you mean 'has nothing officially gone off the rails yet,' then yes." Danny's back was to Steve, shifting slightly to provide maximum cover. "But a hell of a lot more things have to happen like they're supposed to before I stop feeling like I want to throw up."

It didn't surprise him at all that Danny was a worrier. He imagined anyone who cared that much about people usually was. "We'll pull this off, Danny," he said easily, surprised at how much he believed in his own words as he locked everything back up. "No matter what happens, we'll handle it."

Danny gave him a wry look. "I know you don't know me that well, but delusional optimism hardly ever works on me."

"You should." Steve felt his lips curve as Danny led them back onto the street. "You're the one who made me believe in it."

Danny was visibly startled by that, then his face flickered through a series of emotions Steve couldn't quite read before settling on absolute determination. "We'll get you out of this, too," he said fiercely. "I'm not sure how yet, but I swear it'll happen."

Steve's chest tightened. Danny would try, but he knew the only ways this story could end for him was death or jail. But it would also end with Danny saved, his friends saved, and a few precious hours where he got to taste a life he'd never even imagined. He wouldn't get to keep it, but that didn't lessen the gift.

So in a way, Danny had already saved him.

Instead of saying any of that, though, he just touched Danny's arm. "I have faith in you."

000

Their next stop was a diner with a huge UFO on the roof, angled to look like it had just crashed into the building. When Steve shot him a curious look, Danny sighed. "Just please don't ask him about the Belgium Wave. That's all I ask."

When they went inside, a big, cheerful-looking guy came over and moved a poster advertising an alien sightings discussion group from the first window to the second. Then, after they found a booth where they could both watch the door, he grabbed two menus and headed over. "Business or pleasure?" he asked Danny with a grin, handing them both menus. "Because you know I'm always happy to break out the crazy straws for a date."

"I love you, Jerry, but even if I did have the energy to start dating there's no way in hell I'd bring them here." The exasperation in Danny's voice didn't do much to hide the fondness underneath. "I'd have to be pretty damn serious about somebody before I risked exposing them to my weirder friends."

Jerry just winked at Steve. "You hear that? He's pretty serious."

Danny actually seemed to flush at that, and he had to clear his throat before he spoke. "Just give me my usual. Steve, you can have anything you want on the menu."

The lack of denial, along with the blush, made Steve's insides swoop and flip like one of those fighter jets making shapes in the air. Hope surged, transforming into something hot and dangerous, and it was only years of ruthless training that let him crush it back down. "The same for me, thanks." An impishness he hadn't felt since his best moments at boarding school bubbled up, and he was holding back enough else that he let himself give in. "I was actually wondering if you could tell me more about the Belgium Wave."

Jerry's eyes lit. "It's actually one of the most reliable UFO sightings ever recorded, especially because the Belgium government's lack of cover-up actually--" He cut himself off as the heat from Danny's glare finally registered. "You know, I'm pretty sure I have a pamphlet in the back. Two roast beef sandwiches coming up."

When he left, Danny pointed a warning finger at Steve. " _You_ are a little shit."

Steve couldn't stop his lips from curving. "Oh, I'd say I was a tall shit at the very least."

Danny tried hard to look annoyed, but a definite smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Lunatics are drawn to me. It's my curse in life."

"I'm sure you suffer." Steve's smile widened briefly as he leaned forward. "Can I ask how you and Jerry know each other? This doesn't seem like the kind of place you'd come to because you like the fries."

"You are _very_ right about that." Still, his expression softened. "Jerry's an absolute nut when it comes to UFOs, but he's got a good eye. He kept calling into the station about shady-looking activity in the neighborhood, but everyone kept ignoring him because this is outside of the known territories."

Steve looked up at what was presumably a model of an alien spacecraft hanging from the ceiling. "Also, he runs a UFO themed restaurant."

"Exactly." Danny nodded at the waitress who gave them their drinks, then returned his attention to Steve. "Since I was the one who had the reputation for dealing with pointless busy work, he eventually got sent over to me. I actually bothered to check it out, and we got some assholes off the street. Ever since then he's called me when he sees something, and when I need a safe place to meet someone I come here."

Steve inclined his head toward the moved poster. "Your signal?"

Danny nodded. "Hardly noticeable if you're not looking for it, but it lets the right people know I'm here." He checked the time. "I'd still give them another 20 minutes at least, though. They're probably trying to keep to in-person communication, and that always takes awhile."

The sandwiches arrived soon after, and the conversation turned to what qualified as good food and what didn't. Danny turned out to have a dramatic aversion to pineapple that Steve found hilarious, but his descriptions of the Italian food he could cook made him dream about getting a taste. Steve told him about the eggs he'd had in boarding school, which Danny insisted sounded so horrifying that they should be outlawed by the Geneva Convention.

As the minutes passed, however, they both realized that the time window Danny had estimated had come and gone. The conversation faded as they both grew more and more tense, faking casual instead of actually feeling it. Steve knew they were both thinking the worst, but right now the best thing they could do is stay exactly where they were.

Finally, Kono and Adam slipped in and found a booth with as little visibility from the windows as possible. Kono looked as upset as he'd ever seen her, furious and heartbroken all at the same moment, and Steve's stomach sank as he realized Chin wouldn't be joining them any time soon.

From the expression on Danny's face, he must have had the same thought. Steve lifted his eyebrows in silent question, but Danny made a subtle "wait" gesture and inclined his head toward Jerry. The other man had just intercepted the waitress headed for their table, bringing the menus over to them himself with his usual cheerful smile. He made some friendly conversation, took their orders, and you would have had to look pretty damn closely to notice him palm whatever Kono handed him and slip it into a cleaning rag. On his way past their table, he picked up the empty glass from Danny's last refill as a cover for slipping whatever it was to Danny.

Steve moved his own half-full glass over, leaving his arm in place to provide more cover as Danny opened what looked like half of an empty envelope. Inside was a flash drive and a note in Chin's sharp, precise handwriting. _I'm watched too closely, but the drive is the work of years and should be enough. Take care of them for me._

Danny closed his eyes for a moment. "You self-sacrificial son of a bitch," he murmured.

Steve forced himself to take a deep breath, reminding himself that he'd _known_ Wo Fat was suspicious, and was probably watching _all_ of his top lieutenants that closely. There was a good chance Chin was still alive. "We're going to get him out, right?" he asked quietly.

"Of course we're going to fucking get him out." Pulling a pen out of his pocket, Danny scrawled an address on an untouched napkin, folded it over and slid it closer to the edge of the table. "There's no chance he's gone to ground on his own, is there?"

Steve shook his head. "There's never any ground to go to. Our mutual supervisor makes sure of it."

"Shit." Danny sighed. He nodded at Jerry as he set a full glass down in front of Danny, palming the napkin. "Thanks, Jerry."

"Any time, Danny." Jerry's expression made it clear he knew Danny was talking about more than just the food. "You know that."

Then he was gone, slipping the napkin to Kono as he brought them their drinks. Danny carefully didn't watch the exchange as he picked at the remains of his fries. "Looks like I'm sneaking in to join the fun later," he said finally, sounding exhausted. "I'll get him out then."

Steve knew he meant the raid planned for tonight, which meant putting him close to the man who'd ordered the hit on Danny in the first place. "You mean _we're_ sneaking in."

Danny narrowed his eyes at Steve. "Do you _seriously_ think I'm going to let you go someplace where _everyone_ wants to do something terrible to you?"

Steve gave him an equally stubborn look. "I'm supposed to be protecting you, Danny. That's how all this started in the first place."

Danny looked like he wanted to argue for a moment, then sighed. "If you die, I'm going to be extremely pissed at you."

Steve's heart clenched painfully. "Same to you."

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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